Of Interns and Influencers
by paintedladys
Summary: Rejected from her dream college, Marinette falls into a dejected, unmotivated mindset, watching her classmates' lives on social media as they venture into adulthood. When successful video blogger/influencer, Adrien Agreste, announces his father's contest to find a fashion design intern, Marinette finds her spark again – especially with the bonus of meeting her favorite vlogger.
1. Chapter I

**_Of Interns and Influencers_**

Synopsis: After a rejection from her dream college, Marinette falls into a dejected, unmotivated mindset, watching the lives of her classmates on social media as they venture into adulthood. When successful video blogger and influencer, Adrien Agreste, announces his father's contest to find a fashion design intern, Marinette finds her spark again – especially with the bonus of meeting her favorite vlogger.

 ** _Chapter I_**

The cool breeze coming from Marinette's window was quite nice. It was nice enough to make her feel worse about feeling like trash on such a beautiful day.

The sun was shining, but it was a warm, comfortable warmth different from the hot intensity of the previous summer days. Early autumn air made for a lovely, lukewarm weather; perfect for children to ride bikes on Paris' cobblestone streets. Birds chirped along with the sound of her parents' bakery door tinkering open with every customer, and the smell of fresh pastries wafted in.

Despite all this _niceness_ , Marinette was slumped in a cocoon of pillows and pink sheets. Hair messy and unwashed for who knows how long, bags under eyes from nighttime internet surfing, crumbs on the bed from her morning plate of pain au chocolat and mille-feuille and macaroons – yes, for breakfast, dammit. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a real meal, other than sneaking the bakery leftovers into her room to indulge while in the comfort of her bed.

Marinette scrolled through her phone – she switched between her phone, laptop, and desktop computer depending on her laziness level – doing her routine…check-in with other people's lives.

Her finger thumbed up mechanically, other arm holding up her head, cheek squished by her knuckles.

"Ooh, Alya posted," she said to no one in particular. Except for, maybe, the cat snuggled up beside her. Her thumb paused on a photo of Alya, posing on a vibrant lawn, a beautiful cathedral-style university building behind her. A bag was slung on her shoulder, with a notebook in the crook of her arm. Alya's hazel eyes were bright in the sun, trimmed hair shining. She wore summery clothes – jean shorts paired with a white tank top beneath an open flannel shirt.

The caption said: _my intro to media writing prof loves me ;) #ParisInstitutduJournalisme._

"Aw, Tikki, she looks so happy!" Marinette gushed proudly, as she typed up a comment articulating her support for her best friend. She would have been first if it weren't for Nino's " _that's my girl"_ comment (followed by a plethora of heart emojis) only a minute before hers. He beat her this time.

Marinette continued scrolling as she stroked Tikki's reddish-orange fur, fingers focusing on the black spot on top of the cat's head. With the updated posts from her friends from high school – seeing them excited and thriving in the first few weeks of school, following their respective dreams – came the recurrent feeling of wistfulness. It was routine by now, second nature to Marinette after a whole summer of feeling it.

Ever since her dream school, L'Université Parisienne d'Art et Fashion Business, sent her rejection letter right before summer break, Marinette felt deflated. All the confidence and spunk she had built up through high school seemed to wither away. She felt like someone else: an insecure, lost, dejected…failure version of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All her friends and lycée classmates were going on the next step of their lives, and she was left behind, chasing after something that didn't want her. So, she'd stopped chasing.

Marinette's beloved sketchbook sat untouched in her desk drawer, collecting dust since the start of summer. Her fabric and sewing materials were locked up in a box in her closet. In retrospect, she probably should have seen it coming – the arrogance in applying to only one school certainly smacked her back in the face. The universe was in balance now, but Marinette was still lying flat on her back from the brunt of her own ego's mistake.

 _Whatever_ , Marinette thought spitefully, _when the universe gives you nothing, give it nothing back._ Besides, it wasn't so bad being surrounded by delicious homemade French sweets, an extra cushion of Freshmen-15 (minus the Freshmen), and spending her time watching her favorite video entertainer-slash-social media influencer-slash-model, Adr—

"Marinette!" her mother's holler gave her a jolt just as her thumb was about to land on the video-streaming app. Light footsteps sounded before her room's hatch door was swung open to reveal the trim blue-black hair and petite form of Madame Cheng. Gray almond eyes were narrowed in disapproval, matching the frown.

"Marinette, enough is enough!"

Tikki gracefully slid out of Marinette's arms to her place on her favorite black cat pillow – in time for Sabine Cheng to cross the room and pinch the phone from her daughter's hand. "Your father and I did not raise you to give up so easily. When was the last time you left your room?"

As her mother noticed the piles of clothing and miscellaneous items peppering the floor, plates of previous kitchen excursions, wrappers, and an overall mess, Marinette's grumbled, "A couple days…or something…."

Sabine rested her eyes on her daughter's downcast face, eyes softening. "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks," she found a spot to sit on the crowded bed, "And looking at you now, I think you haven't seen your true self around either. Sweetie, everyone feels lost at some point in their life. It may not feel like it now, but it's at that hardest point where you can be born anew and stronger than ever before."

Marinette found her eyes twinging with emotion, but she smiled, feeling supported and loved by her mother. "Thank you, maman," she murmured, muffled by the embrace the two shared.

"Now, let's get yourself cleaned up and downstairs to help at the bakery," Sabine got up and made her way to the exit hatch. "Today's a busy day! And how else are you going to keep up the revenue from your picture-blog-whatchamacallit without our delicious cakes?" With that, her mother left Marinette mull over her words, feeling like she was stuck between a sprawling landscape of uncertainty and a warm, dark hole of safety and comfort.

Her bed-mussed hair fell into her hands as she moaned, "Oh, what am I doing, Tikki?"

She rubbed her palms into her bleary eyes, making exaggerated noises of discontentment. When she realized she sounded a lot like Chloe when the spoiled girl used to whine to her father, her head snapped up, an expression of resolution on her face. "First, a shower!" She jumped up from her soft bed before she could change her mind.

* * *

"An order of eclairs and palmiers, coming up," Marinette said brightly to the customer on the other side of the counter, a kind-looking woman holding a young, pig-tailed girl on her hip. She went behind the glass display cabinets and gathered the desired pastries, placing them neatly in a white box before going back to the counter to ring the order up. The young girl clutched the box excitedly as her mother paid.

"Thank you for coming, enjoy!" Marinette chirped as the last customer of the day left the Dupain-Cheng Patisserie and Boulangerie. Marinette leaned against the counter, feeling multitudes better than earlier that day.

Tom Dupain came from behind her, spots of flour on his apron and face. Her hulking father cast a familiar shadow, before she felt his comforting hand on her shoulder. "What a day, eh, Marinette? Busiest we've had in a while! Must be the weather."

Sabine was collecting the pastries and bread left over from the day, placing them in packages to give to shelters that came to retrieve them every evening. "The macarons you made were a hit today, sweetie," she gave her daughter a _see-what-did-I-tell-you_ look, earning a sheepish blush.

It had been a while, but her baking skills were still present. The pink macarons were sold out, and the neat photo of them she'd posted was a hit on her social media account as well. She earned supportive comments from friends, as well as others exclaiming, " _finally! I thought you'd left your account,"_ and _"yay more desserts, glad ur back,"_ and _"recipe pls?"_

"I learned from the best," Marinette beamed, beginning to assist her parents in cleaning up the bakery, as the reddish tinge of sunset faded slowly to the warm, cozy darkness of late summer.

Half an hour later found the Dupain-Chengs sharing a traditional Chinese meal at their dinner table. As the three ate heartily and chatted about their day, Marinette realized how long it had been since she'd last spent time with her family like this. Much less, her friends, other than digitally. She made a promise to herself to invite Alya and Nino to hang out sometime soon. Even if she felt like she was at the lowest point of life thus far, she owed it her loved ones to maintain her relationships with them.

As though reading her mind, her phone vibrated on the table beside her plate with a text from Alya herself.

Alya: MARI OMG

Alya: OMGGGG YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS

Alya: [link] " _my dad's looking for an intern? + Q &A | ADRN AGRST"_

 _He uploaded a new video?!_ Marinette's mouth fell open as her eyes drank in the title of video Alya had shared. She could not even fathom what it could mean or why Alya thought it was important enough to send to her. Her heart beat faster as her mind contemplated the implications.

"Sorry, Papa, Maman – I have to take this," the words jumbled out of her mouth as she left the table tapping at her phone. Her parents shared an unsurprised (but nonetheless confused) look between them.

Up in her room, Marinette sat at her desk in her pink swivel chair, feet tapping away. She was simultaneously waiting for the video to load and for Alya to answer her video-call request. Tikki jumped gracefully onto Marinette's lap, full tail waving as if sensing her owner's anticipation.

Ayla's face showed up on the phone propped up against Marinette's computer monitor, golden eyes wide behind her glasses. "Girl, did you watch it yet?!" her friend burst out.

"No, it just loaded right now," Marinette told her before muttering under her breath, "I can't believe he uploaded twice this week!"

"Oh, this one is different – you're gonna love this, Mari!" Alya exclaimed. "FYI, I'm _so_ recording your reaction right now."

Marinette was used to her friend's journalistic instinct to document everything. Especially something related to one of Marinette's favorite things: her obsession with Adrien Agreste, known as ADRN, the video blogger, model, and son of the renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste. She never missed a single weekly video, never resisted liking every post and photo he posted. Originally, she was drawn in by his gaming videos – he was the best Ultimate Mecha Strike III player she'd ever seen (besides herself). Now, she sucked in every content he created, from his reaction videos, to his occasional advice on learning Chinese and Physics, to modeling tips and vlogs.

Of course, there was also his effortless charm, irresistible good looks, and sometimes cringe-worthy puns. It was not so difficult to see why he grew so successful online, even without his father's influence.

Biting her lip, Marinette clicked play on the video. It opened with Adrien's lovely black cat, lounging on Adrien's typical rolling chair. Adrien's voice in the background with a ridiculously high pitch greeted viewers with the usual, "Bonjour, Adrien here and welcome to the video! Don't worry, it's me, this is my true form – yep, I'm a cat! See, my eyes are still the same—"

A meow interrupted his voice, the cat blinking lazily.

"Plagg, you ruined it. It could have been..." Adrien face popped into view, blond strands bouncing on his forehead, "Purrfect."

Marinette squealed. "He's _so_ cute, oh my god!" She ignored Alya's mutter of, " _My ears, woman…_ "

The scene jump-cut to a sheepish Adrien in his seat, Plagg curled up in his arms. "Sorry, guys. Not my proudest moment. But let's get on with the video. Yes, second one this week – and for good reason. I'm starting off with a huge announcement but stay tuned for a surprise Q and A after."

Adrien paused to pick a coffee cup off-camera, "But first, coffee," he said taking a long sip and smacking his lips after (with an entertaining zoom-in on his mouth). "Black, because my manager says I have a 'problem with sugar.' Anyway, as you all probably know by now, my father is the head designer of a fashion brand…or whatever. You may have heard about it. Recently, he has made the decision to hold a contest for eligible aspiring designers."

Marinette felt her jaw slacken, as she tried to wrap her head around his words. "No way…is this real?"

Faintly, she heard Alya saying, "Oh, yes, I can always count on you and your dramatics…can't wait to show Nino this."

Adrien continued, "Basically, design something that fits the theme of _Transformation_ , whatever that means to you. With that, attach an explanation as to how your design fits the theme, as well as the theoretical mechanics, materials, and methods of the design. We'd also appreciate if you were to post the design online with the hashtag 'GabrielTransformation2k19' to take global feedback into account. Just know that regardless of how popular your design is, that won't be the determining factor. All applicants have equal opportunity. One winner will be chosen to be a temporary intern-in-training at Gabriel Fashion Industries for _three_ months, under observation by Gabriel Agreste's personal team of designers. If deemed a great contribution, they will become an official paid intern at the company, AND – stay with me here – get a full ride to the prestigious L'Université Parisienne d'Art et Fashion Business!" Adrien paused to take a breath, "That was a mouthful…. you won't believe how many takes that took. I'm inspired to make a full-on blooper video..."

The video continued, but Marinette was frozen, feeling her heart leaping into another dimension. Her blue eyes were pinpoints, eyebrows seeming to want to reach up to her hairline.

"Oh…" she let out in a breathy whisper. "….my…. GOODNESS! AHHH!" Her voice escalated to a high-window-breaking pitch. "Alya, I can't believe – this is a thing – Gabriel! Top fashion designer—a contest—university—" The poor girl jumped up from her seat and did an unusual mix of victory dance and high knee kicks.

Alya watched her best friend from the phone screen, shaking her head. "You're officially broken." Suddenly, she noticed the ecstatic glee slide off Marinette's face, expression replaced by one of insecurity and worry.

"But wait, what if I'm not good enough? What if, I mean, out of who know how many applicants…. I haven't designed or even drawn anything in a while. I'm out of shape, Alya! What if….?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Alya came closer to the camera, pushing down her glasses sternly. "Uh uh, girl, not under my watch. You've done enough of that moping around. Where's the determined, confident Marinette? Where's the, _I'm gonna be top fashion designer and knock all these other losers off their high horses_ Marinette?"

The girl in question rubbed the nape of her neck. "I never actually said that…"

"No, but with the attitude you had, I know without a doubt that you'd be more than capable of doing so." Alya poked at the camera comically. "C'mon, this is your biggest chance! I believe in you – and, oh, listen, I think Adrien's wrapping up."

Marinette's attention turned back to the video still playing on her computer. Adrien, still reclining in his chair, moving from side to side, yet holding himself to model-like grace. He took another sip of coffee before smiling goofily.

"…. Well, now that you all know about my nonexistent love life and all other important questions you were dying for me to answer, I think that's about it for today. Don't forget, please check out this contest if it means something to you – this is the opportunity of a lifetime, guys! I know all of you talented people are capable of amazing things and I _believe_ in you – yes, you."

Adrien pointed a slim, manicured finger at the camera, (much like Alya did) once again zooming in an uncomfortably humorous way, his classic editing style. The camera panned to Plagg, now in the background staring with deadpanned, glowing green eyes. "And Plagg believes in you too, I'm sure. This is Adrien here, signing out." He did his signature salute and the video ended with his outro.

Marinette was back in her seat by now. Alya watched her through the phone camera, face perched on her palm, gauging her best friend's reaction.

"You're right, Alya," Marinette said finally, "this is a huge opportunity. I would be crazy not to take it." Marinette rested her chin upon her arms folded on the desk, closer to her phone screen. A dreamy smile melted onto her face. "Adrien Agreste believes in me!"

"Exactly, that's the spirit I'm looking for – and for the record, I believed in you first, but okay," Alya had a satisfied smirk that didn't match the jokingly passive-aggressive voice.

Marinette grinned at her warmly, "I know, Alya. It really means a lot."

The two continued to talk and catch up over the video call, before Alya had to go start working on a paper for her Media and Communication course. They hung up, Marinette promising Alya to jump on the challenge and get designing her submission as soon as possible. It was not until the silence following the end of the conversation that Marinette's doubts crept up on her.

Tikki's meow snapped her out of it, as if the cat could read her mind. Marinette sighed, "You're right, Tikki. Alya's right, Maman's right. I can't let one failure keep me down forever. And I can't let another chance to get into my dream school go! I have to do this." Marinette punched a fist into her palm triumphantly, energized once more.

"And I might meet Adrien," she added under her breath in a sing-song voice. Tikki purred around the fangirl's legs. Feeling more like herself than she'd felt all summer, Marinette went about rewinding Adrien's video to when his Question/Answer section started, eager to find out about his " _nonexistent love-life_."

* * *

Hello! I'm new to this side of the fanfiction world (mostly a reader/lurker). It's been a while since I actually sat down and wrote a long-term story, so by all means, feel free to leave constructive advice and comments. Thank you and hope you enjoy!

Ree


	2. Chapter II

_**Of Interns and Influencers**_

 **Chapter II**

The first thing Marinette did after hopping out of bed the next morning was dig out her locked away design materials. Taking her dear, pink, hard-cover sketchbook out was like an archaeologist uncovering a long-lost treasure. Her fingers touched the pages gingerly.

Marinette hadn't realized what a gaping hole the book had left in her life. Not until she had it in her hands. Her old drawings and sketches were still there, even though they felt like a dream in the past few months. She thought that being rejected from one of the top arts and design universities in Europe was a sign. A sign that she should stop what she was doing. That her hobby was just that: a hobby and nothing more.

But maybe…maybe it was a test. A test for her resolve, for her determination, for how much this 'hobby' was worth for her. Perhaps she had given up a bit too easily. But surely, she wasn't planning on giving up forever – it never felt like that, despite her self-pitying antics holed up in her room all summer. Deep inside, she knew she would be pulled back to where her light fingers felt most comfortable and where her mind was at peace.

Well, Marinette was back now. She had picked herself up with the help of her best friend and mother, and she was not going down anytime soon.

At least, that's what she thought…. until she found herself pulling at her hair in frustration after more than an hour of intense brainstorming.

"Transformation...transforming…. what can I do with that…?" She muttered feverishly, tapping a pencil loudly on her desk. Her sketchbook lay open on a new, fresh page, patiently waiting.

It made sense to have artist's block, so to speak, after not using her creative juices for a while. But the theme was so simple, so broad, that it was difficult to pinpoint an idea. Marinette had read over the contest's thorough instructions and the only requirements were that the design be original and somehow tie into the theme. She kind of wished the criteria was more restrictive.

Honestly, she would be happy to even be on the list of twenty mentions (as read in fine print), whose designs would be displayed on the company's official blog. For her, that was enough – certainly opportunities could come out of a such an honorable feature.

So, she decided, as overwhelming as the whole deal was, there was nothing to lose. Even if she didn't get featured, she, at the very least, was back in the momentum of designing. She enjoyed the hobby again. Rationalizing her stress away to the best of her ability, Marinette continued brainstorming, googling related things to inspire her. It took quite a while and quite a few breaks, and quite a many search, before she landed on an idea.

The most difficult part out of the way, she got on with the enjoyment of materializing her thoughts onto paper.

Then came a week of drafts and crumpled paper; fervently skimming through her reference books, clothing design informational texts, and the like. But finally, a rough sketch came to fruition – one that finally felt right, complete.

Feeling unable to stop now, Marinette continued with a couple more drafts, before beginning on the final version on her digital drawing tablet. It was well into the night when she finished coloring, saved the design, and typed up the description with reference photos of materials.

This was it. On the official _Gabriel Fashion Industries_ page for the contest submission, she input her information into the form. Uploaded her entry. Held her breath. Doubtful mind urging her to double-check, to hold off in case the design could be retouched. But she'd already done so a million times. As an artist, knew that second-guessing herself was an unwise idea, especially if she already felt satisfied by her work.

A hesitant finger clicked the mouse.

 _Thank you for your submission! The results will be announced by the following date…._

Marinette sighed heavily, the good kind, and leaned back in her chair. "I did it, Tikki," she breathed, but the cat was curled up on her pillow sleeping. After resting for a bit – her drawing hand was spasming – she texted Alya, updating the spammer (Alya's supportive messages had been overflowing her notifications) on her submission. It instantly vibrated with a reply.

 **ALYA:** Yesss! I'm so happy for you girl, you did it

 **ALYA:** we HAVE to meet up to celebrate!

 **ALYA:** You me and Nino, we could hang out tmrw and go to this nice café I know

 **MARINETTE:** yeah, I'd love to! it's been a while :)

She received another text with the address to the café, the plan for noon the next day. Marinette hadn't seen Nino in a while and was glad for the chance now to catch up. She knew he was going to a liberal arts school for his musical talents, while trying to get recognition online as a DJ.

That night, Marinette finally went to bed, falling into an easy slumber for the first time in a while.

* * *

The chimes on the café door jingled, announcing Marinette's entrance. Located in a chic quartier of Paris, only a quick bus ride away from her home, the café exuded cozy, urban vibes. It sat on the corner of a block, cobblestone streets bustling with city-goers and tourists. The homey exterior was of dark wood paneling surrounding glass windows, the entrance shaded by a green and white striped awning. Inside revealed a cozy setting of round tables and antique chairs, verdant leafy plants peppering the area.

She spotted two familiar heads, one of brown-auburn curly hair, the other covered by a red cap. Marinette smiled as she neared, her friends catching sight her with welcoming expressions.

"Hey, Nino, Alya!" Marinette greeted both with a peck on each cheek before taking a seat in the chair saved for her.

Nino looked the same as he did in lycée, with an upgraded version of his trademark cap, his orange headphones around his neck, wearing a blue button up rolled up at the sleeves. His skin was a rich, dark caramel, darker than she'd remembered, the product of sunny summer days.

Once all three had gotten settled with their drinks – Marinette thought the French Vanilla latte was marvelous – they chatted about the new things going on each person's life. Alya gushed about her school's newspaper club, how referencing her blog as a portfolio got her a spot as article writer. Nino talked eagerly about his side job DJing at local clubs and events, complementing his music courses.

"Speaking of which," Nino continued after a generous sip of his iced tea. Warm brown eyes gleamed behind the sheen of his glasses. "You won't believe who I met at the exclusive online entertainer party I was at last night."

Alya spluttered, eyes wide in betrayal. "I can't believe you even got access into that party! And without telling me? Nino! Imagine the scoop I could have gotten!"

Her boyfriend ducked down as if trying to disappear into his shell. "I kind of…wasn't supposed to tell you. See, they heard about me locally and invited me on the condition that I tell no one about it. It was a low-key thing, they didn't want too much... attention. Sorry, Alya."

Alya pouted, but forgivingly said, "Oh, I know how those cult-like influencers can be like. So…. you were saying?"

Nino beamed as his returned to the point. "I actually talked to Adrien Agreste!"

At the very moment the words tumbled out of his mouth, it became Marinette's turn to choke on her drink, nearly knocking it over before it was saved by Alya's quick reflexes.

"Adrien! You spoke to _Adrien_!" Marinette voice came out in a high-pitched whisper, as if her larynx froze.

Nino rubbed the nape of his neck. "Whoops, again. I forgot you were obsessed with him. Sorry, I didn't get an autograph or anything. But as it turns out, the dude's super chill for a rich model with a rich dad. We even exchanged numbers!"

Alya was slapping the Marinette's back in the hopes of easing her subsequent coughing. _Nino_ _met the Adrien Agreste!_ The flustered fan could not believe it. The concept was ethereal, that the popular guy on the other side of the computer screen was a real, living being, and not some perfect fictional character.

"Perfect in real life, too?" Marinette managed. "That's too much power."

"That's great, Nino," Alya jumped in with a thumbs up. "This will definitely win you more visibility. And Mari, here, is going to see him around soon, once she wins a seat at _Gabriel_ _Fashion_ Industries."

Marinette met her hazel eyes with an uncertain smile. "Heh, let's not get our hopes up like that."

The close-knit group continued chatting away. Marinette enjoyed her time finally out of her house; and she was glad that she wasn't left behind even if she didn't go to college like the rest of her classmates. Plenty of people took breaks after high school, to find their passions, or experience life differently outside of rigorous academics.

A nagging feeling at the back of her mind irked her, however, after Alya's words. Would she have a chance to meet Adrien? Certainly, if she interned at Gabriel, _if_ she even came close to winning the contest, there was the chance that she run into him eventually, right? She didn't think she wanted that though. Despite Nino's experience with him, she could not expect the guy to be exactly how he existed in her mind. It was evident that videos only showed what the creators wanted to show, so she couldn't claim to know him at all. Even more persistent was the ugly feeling that even if they met, she was nowhere _near_ his standards. He would think of her as another avid blushing fan, maybe thank her for her support politely and forget about her forever.

That night, Nino posted a photo of him and Adrien, the background dim, illuminated only by colorful strobe lights. Their faces were highlighted with purple, Adrien's airbrushed features and carefree grin as photogenic as ever. Marinette half-heartedly cursed Nino's luck in her mind, as she typed a comment of shocked emojis, daring to add a heart-eyes at the end.

A while later, as Marinette sketched at her desk, a notification popped up on her phone by her sketchbook. Her heart stopped upon reading: _Adrien Agreste liked your comment._ Suddenly, her Nino-directed curses melted into gratitude. She fanned her cherry-red face.

 _Meow_ , interrupted Tikki, sensing that Marinette's mind was already conjuring up fantasies of where this comment could lead. But Marinette just couldn't get a break, because the next thing she knew, Adrien had liked a couple photos on her page, mainly those of pastries.

 _Adrien Agreste commented on your photo: Could go for that croissant right about now!_

He just couldn't give her a break, could he? Not knowing what to do with this unimaginable turn of events, and the implications of what him being on her page meant, she simply liked his comment, brain too overheated to consider replying.

A few restless weeks had passed before Marinette received a letter in the mail from Gabriel Industries one morning. The speed of the blood in her veins doubled. Her parents huddled around her, urging her to open it.

 _This is it,_ she thought, mind racing. _Getting a letter means I won, or I lost, or I made the list of twenty honorable mentions. All are great, I mean, I prepared myself not to expect a win at all, and my artist's block is gone! So even if I lose, I still got something out of it – my design received a lot of positive feedback online, which gave me the confidence to post more artwork, so it's okay if it's another rejection letter…right?_

Holding her breath, she delicately slid her trembling finger beneath the envelope seal, ripping it open smoothly. Unfolded the letter inside. Focused her vision on the words.

 _Dear Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,_

 _Thank you for your admission for the 2018 Gabriel Design Contest. We, the design team at Gabriel Fashion Industries, are happy to announce that you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, have won the contest and a place as a temporary, unpaid intern at our company for the duration of the Autumn season…._

Marinette's gaze stuck at the sentence announcing her winning, and she gasped out, "I made it, I actually won…"

Marinette's heart was bursting with uncontained joy, while her mind trailed back a few minutes, still in shock. The bounding sound of her racing blood was felt through her eardrums, and she could barely hear her family congratulating her. Tom Dupain squeezed the life out of her with his strong arms, yet it hardly registered. Sabine squeezed her cheeks gently, gray eyes filled with pride. Once the underwater-like feeling drained away, Marinette came out of her still, robot like state, and returned the hugs and the cheers enthusiastically, laughing as happy tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.

She made it through this, and that's all she could ask for. The Gabriel Design contest had chosen her as a winner from a pool of undeniably thousands of entries – that was a feat in of itself and even if she didn't get the actual official paid-internship after three months, or get into her desired school, she was completely content.

The letter gave her the date for her first day at the company, her orientation, in about a week. Finally, Marinette had something to look forward to.

* * *

The first day of her internship came too soon, yet not soon enough. Marinette tried to fill her time with working at the bakery, making new designs and creations, as per her returned burst of inspiration, and preparing for the internship as much as possible. With the advice received from online sources, she stocked up on business-casual clothes.

Checking and double-checking that everything was in place in the floor-length mirror – her pale pink blouse tucked in neatly, her hair swirled into a loose bun with shorter strands strategically pulled out in front of her ears, very light makeup to appear more mature (in addition to masking the results of excitement-nervousness-driven insomnia). She smoothed out her knee length high-waisted gray skirt, on the hunt for anything else to fix.

"Well, Tikki," she said to the cat's reflection, sitting upright behind her. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

She put on her simple black ballet flats, and picked up her purse filled with a notebook, her sketchbook, and other things she thought she might need just in case. The letter had not informed her about necessary materials for the first day.

Checking the time to make sure she would not regress to her old high school habit of being late (she made sure to wake up earlier than she had all summer today), she bid Tikki goodbye. Her parents enthusiastically voiced wishes of luck, before she ventured on her way to catch the train.

After a relatively peaceful and quick subway ride, Marinette found herself staring up at the elaborate, imposing building of Gabriel fashion industries. It was a modern building of glass and slate-colored marble, stretching up to the clear blue sky, imposing upon the streets of the Parisian city. A beautiful white-stone fountain sat in the middle of the expansive area outside the entrance flanked by two doormen. Busy looking people rushed passed Marinette, some looking like tired, serious men in suits, others like glamorous models gliding their way to their next shoot, or the gym, or an event. Marinette seldom came to this fast-paced area of her city, but now that she was about to join its ranks, she felt small, like a child dressing up in grown-up clothes.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way closer to the official, majestic looking entrance, crystal-clear glass double-doors gilded with bronze accent. She pressed her hands to push it open, stepping into a sweeping, high-ceiling lobby. The floors were polished and echoed with the crisp footsteps of people going about their businesses. A receptionist sat at a wide, circular mahogany desk in the middle. Elevators sat to the left of the desk, and to the right was a built-in, fancy café complete with tables, couches, and a long table against the glass wall lined with high stools so people could sit and watch the street-life.

Marinette clasped her bag strap tighter and walked purposefully or tried to – she'd be happy if she managed not to trip once – up to the receptionist. She was a young woman with blonde curls tamed in a high bun, immaculate in her deep red button-down and a tight brown pencil skirt.

"Hello," Marinette cleared her throat. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I am here for—"

"We've been expecting you, Miss Dupain-Cheng," the receptionist said brightly, "Congratulations! You can go on up to the 8th floor with those elevators, someone named Nathalie will be there to welcome you."

Marinette thanked her, finally realizing that this was real. Throughout the past week, she had pondered the reality of the situation. Read and re-read the letter, wondered if this was all a mistake, or a joke, worried that she'd get to the company and be kicked out, deemed delusional. It wasn't a dream that she'd won, that she was an _intern_ at _Gabriel_! The receptionist's warm greeting proved it was all real, and she was meant to be here.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she headed towards the sleek elevator. Paying attention in time to see the doors sliding open for a young man to enter, she hurried across the lobby, trying to remain as dignified as possible. Marinette made it in time to slip her arm between the closing doors, causing them to open back up for her to board. She composed herself from the brief exertion.

"What floor?" The only other person in the small space asked, voice smooth and deep. The young man wore a black cap, dark sunglasses, and dressed in a light leather jacket with collar up slightly covering the lower part of his face.

Marinette looked at the numerous buttons, seeing the 8th one already lit. "Oh, I'm going to the 8th floor, too."

"I haven't seen you before, do you work here?" he said.

Marinette couldn't make out his eyes through the shades (designer, she noted). She suspected he was someone important or famous, attempting to avoid much attention. Again, she could not believe she was allowed access to the same place in which such people resided. The young man seemed familiar, but she couldn't put her figure on it….

"No, but today's my first day. As an intern…although temporary, but yeah."

Despite his hidden features, he seemed to perk up in interest. "Oh? You must be the winner of that contest. Wow, didn't know I was talking to such a talented designer."

Marinette bloomed in humble embarrassment. "Hah, well, I wouldn't go that far. I'm only an aspiring designer, and I still can't believe I'm here."

"Well, don't sell yourself short," the mysterious man said, finally lifting his head to show a soft smile that seemed to pinch at Marinette's memory. The elevator dinged. "You're here for a reason after all." The doors slithered open and he stepped out, disappearing around the corner.

Marinette was perplexed. _Who was that guy?_ She shelved it away to ponder later. Hesitantly stepping out, she found herself in a smaller, relatively emptier lobby. Another receptionist sat at a desk parallel to the elevator doors.

"You must be the new intern," she smiled. Pressing a button on a pager, she spoke into it, "Madame Nathalie, she is here." To Marinette, again, "She'll be with you, promptly."

A moment later, a tall woman came from the hallway on one side of the desk. She emitted a serious aura with her dark gray blazer and slacks. The red turtleneck peeking through matched the red streak in her hair, revealing her subtle flare. Crystal blue eyes crinkled into a professional smile.

"My name is Nathalie Sancoeur, personal assistant to CEO Gabriel Agreste, and I welcome you to _Gabriel Fashion_."

* * *

Hello! I finally managed to upload, although I feel like I could have worked on it more, or extended the chapter (because I know it's been quite slow-moving, with trying to set the scene and all). But I figured I'd just get it over with. Also, I've made some changes: previously three winners, now one winner, who will intern for 3 months rather than 1 month.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, I appreciate all the support!

Ree


End file.
